


A Mother's Adventure

by SCFrankles



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: acd_holmesfest, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: Some twenty years or so after the events of The Sign of Four, Gertrude ‘Gertie’ Smith, wife of Mordecai Smith, relates another adventure to her daughter Rhoda.





	A Mother's Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sanguinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguinity/gifts).



> Written for the [Autumn 2017 Round](https://acdholmesfest.dreamwidth.org/74222.html) of ACD Holmesfest. My fic was first posted [here](https://acdholmesfest.dreamwidth.org/71620.html). 
> 
> Thank you to my sister for the beta. Mrs. Smith and Sherlock Holmes are the creations of Conan Doyle.
> 
> * * *

I don’t really know where to start… Look, are you sure you want to write this all down, Rhoda? And why _do_ you want to set it down? Is it to read to your pupils? Oh—‘for posterity’. Do you really think anyone will ever be interested?

Truly?

But surely though you’ve heard the story enough times over the years—from me and your brothers and sisters. Do you really need me to go over it all again? 

Well, if you’re certain. 

I don’t know—what is the best place to start? I suppose it would have to be when your father and brother got arrested after getting mixed up in that Jonathan Small business. I don’t need to go into that—everyone’s read Dr. Watson’s account I’m sure. I certainly had years of neighbours gleefully quoting ‘stoutish, red-faced woman’ at me while pretending to be sympathetic. I’m not saying it wasn’t a truthful portrayal but you don’t want this sort of thing set down in black and white for the whole world to see, do you? I sometimes wonder how Mrs. Watson felt about that ‘neither regularity of feature nor beauty of complexion’ description. You don’t really want your young man being quite _that_ clear-sighted, do you?

Now, where was I? (Don’t you smile at me, young woman.)

As I say, your Pa and Jim got themselves arrested after getting mixed up with that Jonathan Small fellow. But later that same night Dr. Watson himself sent round a note saying that Mr. Sherlock Holmes would make sure they were released as soon as possible. And indeed the following morning I received another note saying no charges would be brought against them. I’d sent Jack and Minnie off to school as usual but Emma was there to watch the business and hire out the boats. So I took myself off to the police station.

While a constable was bringing Mordecai and Jim up from the cells the sergeant enjoyed giving me a telling-off about being a better wife and mother and keeping a closer eye on them. I remembered my manners, didn’t give him a left uppercut and we all managed to depart with our liberty and dignity intact. I was terribly angry with your father I have to say. Jim was only fifteen and could have gone to prison for God knows how long. And what about the shooting? What if a bullet had struck Jim or Mordecai? As it was, Jim witnessed a man being shot dead.

But I… I didn’t really blame your father for being tempted by the money, you know. He was always a hard worker, make no mistake about that. He did like his beer but he wasn’t the drunkard Dr. Watson’s story implied he was. He always put his family and the business first. But when it’s _all_ hard work and paying bills… I was angry with him but I did understand the temptation to have a bit of spare money to do with whatever you want. 

Anyway, I gave Mordecai and Jim my own scolding and I thought that was an end to it. Life went on much as before. Until just under a year later, Mr. Sherlock Holmes comes to my door once more. 

I hadn’t known he was Sherlock Holmes the first time of course. I’d only found out who he was later. But I never forget a face. Well, you know how good I am with faces. The first time he’d been dressed as a gentleman but this time his clothes weren’t of such good quality. He had a bit of a beard too, and he was putting on this funny accent. Well, I wasn’t too bothered at first. Men get these fancies into their heads, don’t they? My Mordecai had a waistcoat he was convinced transformed him into George Leybourne.

Leybourne. L-E-Y-B… You know, _Champagne Charlie is my name. Champagne drinking is my game…_ No, you’re thinking of Vesta Tilley and ‘Burlington Bertie’. ‘Champagne Charlie’ was years before you were born. Look, it’s not important, girl. 

This time Mr. Holmes was asking about hiring a skiff from us. A double. He was talking away in his new accent with his new beard and his scruffy clothes and I was waiting for him to say, ‘A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Smith. Hope Mr. Smith hasn’t got into any more trouble.’ Or something along those lines. But he’s steadfastly giving the impression we’ve never met before.

And then it suddenly occurs to me that he’s In Disguise. And I’m not supposed to have recognised him. And I felt a bit… perturbed. I always used to laugh at old Mrs. Ward and her silly etiquette books but I was standing there listening to him going on, and I wondered what was the correct thing to do in this situation. 

And so I get more and more flustered until finally I just lean forward and I say quietly, ‘Are you Mr. Sherlock Holmes?’ 

And he looks taken aback but he says, ‘Yes, I am.’ 

And I say, ‘Well, then.’

You see, that kind of gentleman, beat around the bush and he’ll find a way of telling the truth _without_ telling the truth. But ask him a question straight out and he feels honour bound to give you a straight answer. 

Daft, but there you are.

Anyway, I am a woman of discretion and I knew he must be on a case. So I made no more fuss. I simply nodded, took his payment and showed him to a skiff. 

At that point he calls over two other gentlemen ‘in disguise’. One is Dr. Watson without a doubt and the other—

Well, my money was on it being Mrs. Watson. Never found out definitely one way or the other but that was quite a handlebar for such a young-looking man. And looking at the styling, I’d wager ‘he’ was a complete novice to the ways of moustache wax. Anyway, they all got in the boat, Mr. Holmes thanked me—still showing a firm commitment to that accent—and he and Dr. Watson rowed them all away. And as I watched them go… I have to say I was relieved that this time, me and mine wouldn’t be involved in whatever was up.

But then your father started acting very oddly. Very oddly indeed. 

Bought me _presents,_ would you believe. And he was _nice_ to me. How he ever thought he could get away with it...

Of course, my first notion was that he’d dug that waistcoat out again and found himself an impressionable woman—while his stoutish, red-faced wife was busy looking after his children and keeping his house clean. I was upset and annoyed but I couldn’t bring myself to ask straight out if it was true. Didn’t want the answer to be yes.

Then one day I find this brooch while I’m cleaning the parlour—hidden down behind the aspidistra. Gorgeous it was—sparkling blue and white paste. You would have sworn the jewels were real—not that I’d ever seen the real thing. And I’m just admiring the blessed thing when Mordecai comes into the room and spots me with it. 

He goes deathly pale and tells me it’s a mistake. It’s not for me. It belongs to someone who hired a boat earlier. 

Well, yes, you might think at this point your father was lying and the brooch was a present for another woman. But Mordecai wouldn’t have been such a fool as to tell me it’s not for me and to come up with some cock and bull story—he would have just given the brooch to me and bought his fancy woman something else. 

But more importantly… I didn’t think he looked embarrassed or caught out. I thought he looked a little frightened. 

I was unsure about the whole situation but I hand over the brooch and he scuttles off with it before I can ask any more questions.

But I did wonder about it. If he _was_ telling the truth—well, why did he hide the brooch? He might have been worried about the younger children playing with it but it felt as if he was hiding it from me too. And if it was lost property… Who wears something that flashy for a day-out on a boat? Or carries it with them?

So I start to keep a closer eye on Mordecai. I still couldn’t bring myself to ask him straight out what he was up to. It wasn’t so much the thought of another woman now—I was frightened he had got himself mixed up in another bit of bad business. 

And then it happened again. Another piece of lost property in the house. A _soup tureen,_ if you please! But your father insisted it had been left behind in a boat. Still, at least this time it didn’t seem like a possible lover’s gift. If Mordecai had ever given me a tureen as a present I would have told him everything was over between us. And also this time I saw him return it to its rightful owner: a young man who called at the house. I only saw him briefly before Mordecai hurried him away but he didn’t seem like a dangerous criminal and so I hoped my suspicions were all in my head. 

Nothing happened for some time after that and I convinced myself it had all been nothing important and the brooch and tureen truly had just been bits of lost property.

But then Jim finds a necklace while he’s rummaging for an old rag in the kitchen. Beautiful large white stones set into the shape of flowers. Of course he hands it over to me. And I hold this necklace and I stare at it. I just can’t believe those stones are paste. And I make a decision. I’ve let this go on long enough. Mordecai is out on the river on a job in the barge, and Minnie and Jack are at school. Jim hasn’t gone with Mordecai—your father had said his customer was helping with the barge in order to pay a lower fee. So I leave Jim in charge of the business and Emma in charge of Jim and off I go to Baker Street to see Mr. Holmes. 

A harassed-looking woman opens the door, Mrs. Hudson I suppose. I ask politely if Mr. Holmes is available, and he is and I’m shown up. Dr. Watson wasn’t there—it was just Mr. Holmes on his own. 

And I say, ‘Good morning. I don’t know if you remember me, sir.’

And there’s just a whisper of a smile on his face and he says, ‘Of course I do, Mrs. Smith. How may I help?’

And I hand over the necklace. He considers it seriously for a long, long time. 

Then he looks up and says, ‘Where did this come from?’

And I explain about the ‘lost property’ and how Mordecai has been acting.

Mr. Holmes nods. And he’s silent for a moment. And then he says, ‘I’m going to take you into my confidence, Mrs. Smith.’

And he tells me about the case he’s been working on. Stolen property being moved about on the river—single items being swapped from one set of hands to another. He thinks Mordecai must be one of the go-betweens.

Then I feel so frustrated that Mordecai should have got mixed up in something like this again. And I think I may have said a few things that a lady shouldn’t. But Mr. Holmes, he just puts a hand gently on my shoulders and looks calmly into my eyes. And I stop feeling angry with Mordecai, and instead begin feeling rather irritated with Mr. Holmes. But do you know, after a while I seemed to catch his calmness and I felt better. Reminded me of my old mother—that feeling that no matter how bad things were, everything could be sorted out. Not always true of course but it’s nice to believe it sometimes. 

Anyway, Mr. Holmes says I should take the necklace back and if someone comes to claim it, I should hand it over. He and his ‘Irregulars’ will be keeping an eye out. I beg him to keep Mordecai out of it and he says he will do his best but he can’t promise anything. After all, this time Mordecai can’t say that he didn’t know what was going on.

So home I go feeling both hopeful and somewhat dejected. And as soon as I get through the door, I find Emma in tears and Jim very close to them. Seems some big brute of a man had come to the house while I was gone and asked for the necklace. Emma hadn’t known anything about it naturally and the man had started getting unpleasant with her. Then Jim had come to her defence and told him the necklace wasn’t in the house—I’d taken it away. Of course it had only made things worse but the poor boy wasn’t to know that. At last Emma had threatened to get a constable and the man had left.

I’m torn between wanting to hurt this man very badly and fear for what might have happened to the children while I was away. But I keep myself calm. I tell Emma and Jim that I’ve brought the necklace back again and if they see the man come back, to keep away from him and let me know. 

And of course I’m worried about Mordecai now too. He did say he might be away overnight on this barge job but then two nights go past and he’s not back.

Eventually I can’t bear it any longer. I can’t go to the police but I go back to Baker Street. And Mr. Holmes isn’t there and his landlady doesn’t know how to get in touch with him. So I have to go back home. It’s Sunday so it’s a busy day for hiring.

I’ve got to keep the business going even though I’m so worried. I haven’t told them what’s going on but the children are all suspecting something’s up. I try to keep Minnie and Jack distracted but Jim and Emma are anxious. As the day goes on I think about going to the police, I truly do. But I know Mordecai wouldn’t get away without punishment this time. 

There’s a steady stream of customers and one of them asks specifically for my husband. I’m about to explain to the gentleman that I can hire him a boat but then I realise he’s _arrived_ in a skiff. And there’s a young woman travelling with him, waiting for him to get back in. And she seems so familiar but I can’t put my finger on it… And suddenly everything shifts and I see her in a different way and it abruptly comes to me. She was the ‘young man’ who collected the tureen. I try and keep all emotions off my face, and tell the man my husband is still off on a job. I glance at Emma but she shows no sign of recognising this man, so it wasn’t the unpleasant man demanding the necklace.

And the man seems to accept my words and he gets back into his boat. He exchanges words with the young woman and it looks like she might be making a suggestion because the man nods and takes up his sculls. He sets off with the woman downriver, the two of them looking like any other young couple out on a spree.

And once again I make my decision. I gather all the children together and lock the house and I usher them all into a double skiff. Perhaps it would have been better to leave them behind. But I was thinking, what if that other man came back? And I had my head full of Mr. Holmes’s pistol and Dr. Watson’s pistol and bullets being fired at that Tonga while my son and husband were on the boat too. And I wanted to keep them all safe with me. So I tell the children we’re all going on an adventure to try and find their father. Jim and Emma know something serious is happening, and I think Minnie does too. But little Jack just says, ‘Mothers can’t go on adventures.’ ‘Mothers can’t go on adventures,’ if you please! Despite it all that made me laugh a little, and I told him this one was going on an adventure, whatever the rules said. It was broad daylight and there were plenty of boats on the river. I thought we would be safe. We would follow that boat and see if they could find your father, and then we would bring him back. 

So the five of us got into the boat and me and Jim took the sculls. Jim was stroke and I was bow and Emma was the coxswain. Minnie and Jack were stowed safely behind me, with Minnie having firm instructions to hold Jack’s hand and not let him go for a swim, go for a walk, do an Irish jig or repeatedly poke me in the back while I was trying to scull. 

We set off well, pulling hard. Keeping the other boat in sight but not getting too close. And I wasn’t too worried about them seeing us. I was just another plain, middle-aged woman—I doubted either of them would remember particularly what Mordecai Smith’s wife and children looked like. 

Eventually we hear the woman call to her companion and point over at another skiff coming towards them. The skiffs approach each other and they pull alongside each other. 

Emma makes a little cry. I look at her and her eyes are wide. ‘That’s the man who was asking about the necklace,’ she says. 

We keep going so as not to draw attention. As we pass by it looks like the three of them are having an argument though. And I swear I hear the woman say ‘Smith’. 

The boats separate. And I tell Jim to stop. I think about it for a moment but my feminine intuition has already made the decision for me. We are going to follow the unpleasant necklace man—I feel he must know where Mordecai is. So I turn the boat round and I tell Jim to get going. Emma looks pale but she nods in understanding. 

So this goes on for a little while but the necklace man quickly heads towards a wharf. And there’s the barge! The sails are down and there’s no sign of Mordecai or his customer but the necklace man moors his skiff alongside, gets up onto the wharf, then gets on board the barge. He opens the hatchway and goes below deck.

And we wait. And Emma is looking at me, and Jim turns round to look at me too and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.

But then suddenly up comes Mordecai on deck—his hands tied! And the necklace man and Mordecai’s customer are chasing him. The necklace man is waving a gun! And suddenly it’s as though history is repeating itself and I can’t breathe. But then, whether it’s through accident or design I never know, because Mordecai himself wasn’t sure. But Mordecai stops abruptly, and the unarmed man barrels into him and the necklace man goes into his accomplice and thank God he loses the gun over the side! 

And suddenly everything changes and I can breathe again. I look at those two men and just see a couple of bullies. We can deal with them! I call to Jim and we take the skiff closer. Me and the children scramble onto the wharf and then onto our barge. And we’re all screaming and yelling, and Jim is at the front waving his fists about. I almost laugh at how terrified the men look for a moment. I grab Mordecai before his captors can recover from their confusion and I get him into the drifting skiff. Minnie isn’t far behind, still holding tight to Jack’s hand, the good girl! They get into the skiff and I look to see where Jim and Emma are. And the two of them are in the process of pushing the necklace man into the water! I yell at them to leave the other one, and they get back into the skiff, and once we’re arranged as best we can, Jim and I get us away from the scene as quickly as possible and back home. 

And there isn’t much more to tell. When we get back home, a young lady is waiting for us and she introduces herself as Mrs. Watson. Mr. Holmes’s landlady, Mrs. Hudson had got in contact with her. We explained all that had happened and Mrs. Watson said she would let that Inspector Lestrade know, and he would capture the men before they got too far. She must have seen me look over at Mordecai because she gave me a small nod, and told me that the Inspector could be very understanding and was only interested in capturing the ringleaders.

It seems Mr. Holmes and the doctor and this Inspector Lestrade were off chasing another lead when me and the children were off on our adventure. And I appreciate that—Mr. Holmes can’t cover everything. I suppose sometimes the irregular Irregulars have to step forward and have a go. 

And it did turn out all right, thank the lord. Mordecai simply had to give a statement about being kidnapped, and Mr. Holmes had a quiet word about how he wouldn’t be able to step in if there was a next time. And then I had a very loud word about how I wouldn’t stand for any more of it ever again.

When that horrible necklace man had come to collect the necklace, he thought I’d ‘stolen’ it from him, and he went and found Mordecai on his barge and kidnapped him. I suppose he was going to use threats against Mordecai to get me to give up the jewels. Or perhaps he simply wanted to stop me going to the police about the necklace. And Mordecai’s ‘customer’ was one of the villains of course, and Mordecai and he were going to pick up some more ‘lost property’. Mordecai said he really wasn’t that bad a man but he had to do what the necklace man said once he caught up with them.

So there you are. That’s the story. 

You know, your father could be a fool… He puts his life in danger and escapes going to gaol by the skin of his teeth over that Jonathan Small affair. Then the minute some other man starts jingling coins in front of him he decides to have another go! I mean it’s a hard world—if you’re desperate, sometimes you’ve got to do the job and take the money and turn a blind eye. But we weren’t desperate—we had a business and a place to live. It wasn’t worth risking all that for some drinking money and to buy me a few presents.

But I was so glad that he came out of all this unharmed. When we escaped from the barge and got back home, and after Mrs. Watson had gone to relay the news, I just put my arms round him and wouldn’t let go. When I thought what could have happened to him… I was very fond of him, you know. And sometimes he looked even more handsome than George Leybourne, whether or not he was wearing the waistcoat. And as I say, I was very happy to get him back safe and sound, and well… That night… That’s how we ended up with you, seven years after I thought I’d shut up shop. 

No, don’t write that bit down! Rhoda! Stop with your laughing! You’re going to be the death of me, girl, really you are. Oh, it’s a hard job being a mother.


End file.
